There was a time when my kids were small that I would think about getting into our 2003 minivan and driving to Florida alone. I would unpack my things into a dingy motel room with an outdoor pool that was filled with leaves, find a local dive bar, sit and drink vodka, water and lime until I woke up with my head on Republicans forearm. I would then call my husband, tell him where I was and ask him to fly down and get me because I had lost my mind.
I didn’t just think about this once.
I thought about doing this allllll the time.
Recently, I started thinking about it again.
THINGS MY 10 YEAR OLD SAID TODAY THAT MAKES ME WANT TO LIVE IN A MOTEL ROOM IN FLORIDA
Where are my pants?
Has her Mom texted you back yet?
Can you text her Mom again?
I’m wearing your new lipstick today.
Why do you have a secret drawer in your room?
You smell like Nana.
Don’t talk or dance. It’s really embarrassing.
Is this where you hide the Christmas gifts?
But how does the penis get IN to the vagina to make a baby?
Mom. Mom. Mom. MOM. Mommmmmmmmmmmm. Mom. Mom. MOM.
Seriously, MOM. Where are my pants?
I plan on spending the day looking at Airbnb’s in Florida. Also, if I go missing for a while you know where to find me.